


Scars and All

by SD-nonassociated (societallyDysfunctional)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Harm, kinda??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 18:26:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3391715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/societallyDysfunctional/pseuds/SD-nonassociated
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Romano goes to the Germany brothers' house in search of Veneziano, but instead finds out about something he never could have  guessed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars and All

Romano stomped up the front steps to Germany’s house, cursing under his breath.  Why did his goddamn brother have to vanish like that?  He wasn’t answering his phone either.  Romano had figured it was best to check the potato bastard’s house first, seeing as that’s where Veneziano always was.  He pressed the doorbell violently.

“Fratello?” Romano yelled at the door. “Are you in there?”  No answer.  He huffed and was about to walk away when he heard a muffled voice from inside.

“They went to the movies.”

“Can you let me in, albino bastard?”

“No.  Just leave.”  The voice cracked on the last word.

Romano rolled his eyes and bent his knees, lifting the doormat carelessly.  Sure enough, a spare key lay under the mat.  He stood up and shoved the key into the lock, turning it and flinging the door open.

“Bastard!” Romano called, slamming the door behind him, “Where are you?”  He heard the sound of objects clattering to the floor coming from upstairs.  Romano walked over to the staircase, determined to find Prussia.  He didn’t know why he was hell-bent on seeing the potato bastard’s older brother, but at the moment he had a strange hunch that he should.

Romano padded quietly up the stairs, then stopped, unsure of where to go.  The faint sound of sniffling wafted through the hallway to Romano’s left, so he turned in that direction, peering through each doorway he passed.  Then Prussia scrambled out of a room to Romano’s right, hastily trying to shut the door behind him.

“What the fuck are you doing, albino idiot?” Romano asked.

“N-nothing.  I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Prussia stuttered, fiddling with his sleeves.

“Yes.  You’re hiding something.”

“What?!  Ha!  I don’t know what you’re talking about.  I’m too awesome to keep secrets.”

“I’m not that stupid, bastard.”  Romano ignored Prussia’s frantic pleas and shoved past him into the bathroom.

“No!  Don’t do that!”  At Romano’s look, Prussia amended his statement, “I mean, why don’t you come downstairs with the awesome me instead?  There’s nothing in there.”

“If there’s nothing why can’t I see, idiot?”  Prussia gulped and reluctantly let Romano past, unable to find another excuse.

At first, Romano couldn’t see anything unusual, only a few soap bottles and hair gel on the floor.  He was about to turn around and leave when he saw a pinprick of red in the corner of his eye.  He stepped closer to the sink and looked inside.  The razor’s blade was slick with blood.  Romano tentatively picked up the razor by its handle and turned to face Prussia.

“What is the meaning of this?” Romano said through gritted teeth, “Please tell me that this isn’t what I think its for.”  Prussia’s answer, or lack of one, confirmed Romano’s suspicions.

“Y-you—” Romano started. “B-but why?  You’re always so self-confident and—”  Prussia winced.

“I know it’s just—” Prussia couldn’t finish, tears slipping down his pale cheeks.

“Give me your arm,” Romano commanded.  Prussia swallowed.  He reached over slowly and wrapped his left hand lightly around Prussia’s wrist, the latter making no move to stop him.  He slowly slid Prussia’s deep blue sleeve up and fought to stifle a gasp of surprise.

The skin of Prussia’s forearm certainly wasn’t as pale as the rest of him.  Horizontal red welts striped the sensitive inner arm, disappearing past where Romano had rolled his sleeve.  A few looked white, but many were bright pink or red.  At least five of the cuts still dripped blood onto the floor.  Romano had to fight tears.

“This whole time, while everyone thought you were the most egotistical asshole, you were doing this?  You—you could’ve died!”  Prussia nodded slowly.  “B-but…  France and Spain, did they—  And your brother?”  He just shook his head no, sinking to the ground and hanging his head in his hands, clearly not able to answer any more.  Then he began crying, sobs racking his fragile-looking frame.

Romano could only stand there gaping.  Who had ever heard of the so-called awesome Prussia crying?  Then he remembered that he was Italian; people and emotions were supposed to be their thing, right?  He only wished that Veneziano was here to comfort him instead; he wasn’t nearly as good at his younger brother when it came to consoling people.  He couldn’t right well let Prussia wallow in his sadness alone.  So he sat down next to him and hesitantly wrapped his arms around the now sobbing nation and let him cry himself out, barely registering the tears slipping out of his own eyes.  By the time Romano found the courage to speak again, he could only manage one word.

“Why?” he asked through his tears.

“No one recognizes me anymore.  I’m just West’s older brother.  Not a country.  I don’t get opinions in meetings and no one notices me; no one is _Prussian_ anymore.  I’m practically human.  I might as well live a normal life.  Plus, the one person I like, he—” Prussia stopped himself, then forced himself to continue.  “He hates me.”

“Prussia, _idiota_ , of course people like you!  You’re France and Spain’s best friend, you know that?  Fratello adores you nearly as much as he loves your brother, and that’s saying something.  Ha, America thinks you’re the best.  And your brother loves you,” Romano assured him, “If you ever needed to talk to someone, you could’ve come to me.”

Prussia gave him an incredulous look.

“Hey!  I don’t bite or anything.”  Another look.  “Fine, maybe I do sometimes.  But not about serious things.  If anyone could relate to you, it’s me.  You don’t think I ever felt like I was overshadowed by Veneziano?  I mean really, everyone calls him Italy even though I’m the same amount of Italy he is.  I don’t get opinions in meetings either.  We could’ve met up and made fun of all the other countries fighting over stupid shit in those goddamn world meetings.”  The corners of Prussia’s lips twitched, just a bit, but it was better than nothing.  Suddenly Romano had an idea.  He reluctantly untangled himself and stood up, offering Prussia his hand.

“C’mon.  We’re going to watch a movie of our own.  And no more cutting.  So help me I will follow you everywhere if that’s what it takes.  And you know what?  Screw that guy you like.  If it makes you feel any better, I like you, and that guy is an idiot for not thinking the same.”  Prussia almost smiled, took Romano’s outstretched hand, and stood up.

—

In a little less than half an hour, Romano had bound Prussia’s bleeding arm, microwaved a bag of buttered popcorn, found a copy of The Lion King, and burrowed through the linen closet to find the fuzziest blankets.  Then he instructed Prussia to sit on the couch, sat down right next to him, and threw at least five of the blankets over the two of them, turning on the movie with the TV remote.  He snuggled up to Prussia and tucked his head under his chin, the popcorn lying forgotten on the table.

“Hey Romano?”  Prussia interrupted the movie, but neither of them really minded.

“Hmm?”

“Can you...not tell anyone?  Please?”

“Don’t worry.  I won’t tell until you want me to, if you ever do.”

“You’re almost as awesome as the awesome me!” Prussia joked, for the first time that day.  Romano elbowed him.

“Shut the hell up, _idiota_!  I wanna watch the damn movie!” he whined.

So they cuddled in silence for an hour, until Simba and Nala were reunited and realized their love for each other.

“Hey Romano?”

“What now, bastard?”

“Did you really mean it?  When you said you liked me?”

“No, I was lying,” Romano retorted, “Of course I meant it!”  Prussia hid his wide grin in Romano’s chestnut hair.

“Even now that you know about… You know?” he asked hesitantly.

“More, now that I know you’re not as much of a shithead like we all thought.”

“Hey!” Prussia cried indignantly.

“Well, the point is, I love you, scars and all.”  Prussia sighed contentedly and wrapped his scarred arms around Romano, the two of them happily falling asleep under the mound of blankets, tangled in each other’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> I was having so much trouble writing this; my own writing was making me sad. But really, I’ve wanted to write Prumano for such a long time now, because it’s one of my two Hetalia OTPs (the other one is USUK) and it’s really underappreciated. I couldn’t think of any ideas and I don’t actually know how I thought of this one, but it just seemed like a thing that could happen, seeing as we all know Prussia’s big ego is just to hide the fact that he’s a really nice person. I don’t know, I feel like this is a thing that Prussia would do and just hide it with his ‘awesome’ remarks.
> 
> I hope you guys liked it! If you did, please please comment, because I always get so excited when I see a new comment on a story so please. Thanks again for putting up with me!
> 
> ~Rebecca
> 
> (again, more older writing that probably isn't great)


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